


Ink on Skin

by WorryinglyInnocent



Series: Fun in the Sun: Sizzling Smutlets [19]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CW: mentions of past domestic violence, F/M, Ficlet, NSFW, PWP, Rumbelle - Freeform, Smutlet, body art, tattooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Tattoo artist Gold practices his designs in pen on Belle…





	Ink on Skin

Belle wakes to the feeling of fingertips drawing on her back, and she smiles to herself. Gold has always been the early riser of the two of them, and he likes to use her as a canvas for whatever new artistic endeavour came to him in the night. Sometimes they end up inked on her permanently, but not often. Only the most special ones stay with her forever.

She rolls over and gives him a sleepy smile, looking at the colours that decorate his own skin. It’s strange. No-one would ever guess at his profession if they were to pass him on the street. It’s only once he’s inside his shop and he slips off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves that the delicate artwork he has spent years collecting is revealed.

Belle remembers the first time she ever saw him, and she raises her arm to look at the ink that commemorates that first meeting. Wonder Woman is depicted in loving full colour on the inside of her arm, a warrior covering her scars and acting as a warning that no-one will ever hurt her again.

She’d been a lot younger then, and a lot more nervous about taking this step, but she had thought that if her body was going to be permanently marked as a result of her time with Gaston, then it might as well be marked with something of her own choosing, a fighter reminding her of her own strength in finally getting away.

Gold hadn’t said anything about the scars that she wanted covered. He’d simply helped her to create the design and inked it onto her skin. He had warned her that tattooing scar tissue was always more painful than tattooing unblemished skin, but he never tried to talk her out of it, and Belle was certain that nothing could be more painful than what had caused the scars in the first place.

It was only when he refused to take payment for his work that Belle realised, and when he pulled back his collar and showed her the Latin script and the almost invisible white lines beneath it, she truly understood.

“I know what it’s like,” he’d said, simply wrapping her arm in plastic, and sending her on her way.

Their relationship began from there, and now, over the course of the years, Belle has learned the origins of each of his tattoos. Some have painful beginnings, others joyful, and presently she reaches out to touch the rose on his chest that belongs to her.

“What have you been thinking of this time?” she asks.

“Flowers. Wild flowers in an overgrown tangle that nature intended.”

He reaches across to the nightstand and flicks the cap off a pen, beginning to draw on her. He starts at her breasts, making each nipple the centre of a flower. Belle squirms at the sensation of the pen nib on her areolae and the sensitive undersides, and Gold just chuckles.

“It’s hardly going to be very neat if you keep doing that, is it?”

“I don’t care. You’re only doing it to tease me anyhow.”

“Well, that’s true.” He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, and she moans, her legs falling open with the need of him between them. Gold just grins and keeps drawing, his pen swift and his strokes firm and assured as the pattern of flowers dances down over her ribs and stomach, until he reaches her mound.

“Don’t stop.” Belle shifts, canting her hips up towards him and presenting him with her intimate canvas. “Decorate me all over. I want your signature.”

This is different to being marked, because she can wash this off. This possession is temporary, and she has full control over when and how she surrenders.

Gold continues his artwork, dainty flowers appearing on her hairless mons and vanishing into her cleft. Finally, out of space, he puts the pen down and sits back to admire his efforts. Belle can only wriggle with the need of him, her thighs quivering and heat pooling at her entrance where he has been so desperate close but just not touching her in the right way for these last few minutes.

Then, his fingers are back between her legs, stroking along her folds and dipping into her entrance to spread her warm juices, rubbing circles around her clit to make her fall apart in the way she always does when his hands are on her.

“Oh, Rum,” she breathes. His other hands is on her hip, painting soothing patterns as one finger, then another, pushes up inside her and crooks to find her sweet spot, his thumb still working her clit.

Belle groans, grabbing a fistful of the bedcovers and arching her back, pressing into his touch. His hands are magical, and she never wants him to stop touching her.

“Please, Rum, I’m so close, darling.”

He bends to kiss her belly, darting his tongue into her navel, and at that moment his fingertips touch just the right spot inside. She comes with a moan, warmth pulsing through her veins, gradually falling back to herself as Gold pulls his fingers out slowly and moves up to kiss her lips.

Belle pulls him in close, wrapping her arms around him and pressing up against him, his cock hard and thick and ready.

“Come on inside,” she whispers.

“I’ll ruin my masterpiece.”

“It’s ruined already.” The ink on her skin is already smeared with the sheen of perspiration, and Gold shrugs, resettling his weight on top of her and reaching down to line them up. There’s something artistic in the way they move together, Belle’s always thought so. Gold’s never been very vocal; he prefers to let his hands do the talking.

Still, he whispers her name as he moves in her and she rolls her hips to meet him, and she feels him tense and still as he comes. His forehead nudges against hers, and when they finally come apart, there are black smudges on his skin too. The design is gone, but the memories will remain for a while yet.

Belle traces her fingers over the design on her hip, the one that will stay even after this morning’s efforts have washed away. Golden thread, looped and knotted together in the way that she and Gold will always be entwined.

No matter what happens, and no matter the art that will come and go, they will always be a part of each other’s skin.

 


End file.
